Grounding Tv's Material Heritage
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volume 8 issue 15/2019 GROUNDING TV’S MATERIAL HERITAGE PLACE-BASED PROJECTS THAT VALUE OR VILIFY AMATEUR VIDEOCASSETTE RECORDINGS OF TELEVISION Jennifer VanderBurgh Saint Mary’s University Department of English Language and Literature 923 Robie St. Halifax, Nova Scotia, B3H 3C3 Canada [email protected] Abstract: VCRs were once prized for their ability to allow amateurs to create material records of ephemeral television broadcasts. But what value do amateur video-recordings of television have at their late stage of obsolescence? This article outlines some of the discursive parameters surrounding the perceived use-value of amateur video-recordings of television, drawing on case studies of video collection projects that are divided on the question of whether amateur television video-recordings continue to have merit. It argues that both advocates and detractors of videocassette recordings of television tend to rely on place-based heritage discourses in order to value or vilify them. Keywords: video, recording, amateur, VCR, television, heritage Nam June Paik’s TV Garden (1974) installation was one of the first artworks to conceptualize television content as material excess. Responding to a proliferating landscape of cable and satellite television, audio from Paik’s Global Groove (1973) encouraged visitors to imagine a time when the “TV Guide would be as thick as the Manhattan telephone directory”.1 Placing working televisions among tropical plants, Paik represented TV’s ecosystem as a rapidly growing content jungle.2 This organic metaphor understands TV content to be expanding, but ephemeral. For the typical TV viewer of 1974, programming was analogous to the short lifespan of plant life––it appeared to live for a moment on the screen and then die. Television transmissions might have been considered invasive or excessive, but they could not yet be contained by viewers in material form. 1 TV Garden first appeared at the Everson Museum of Art (Syracuse, NY), and has been remounted several times since. For a description of the original installation, and a discussion of issues to be considered when remounting it, see John G. Hanhardt, ‘Case Studies: Nam June Paik, TV Garden, 1974’, in Alain Depocas, Jon Ippolio and Caitlin Jones, eds, Permanence Through Change: The Variable Media Approach, Guggenheim Museum Publications, 2003, p. 170-177. 2 Building on Hanhardt’s reading of TV Garden as a “playful and profound meditation on our expanding media environment”(2003, p. 72), I’ve found TV Garden’s metaphor of television excess to be a useful way to arrive at archival issues that plague television accumulation projects. See, for example, Jennifer VanderBurgh, ‘(Who Knows?) What Remains to be Seen: Archives and Other Pragmatic Problems for Canadian Television Studies’, Marian Bredin, Scott Henderson and Sarah Matheson, eds, Canadian Television: Text and Context, Wilfrid Laurier Press, 2012, p. 39-57. 1 J. VanderBurgh, Grounding TV’s Material Heritage Figure 1. Screenshot from “Nam June Paik, TV Garden,” Guggenheim Collection Online. The following year (1975), Sony released the first videocassette recorder (VCR) for the domestic market.3 In the years that followed, multiple brands of VCRs were marketed as interventions that gave home viewers “newfound agency” to transform content that was previously experienced as ephemeral into material record.4 VCRs enabled new engagements and negotiations with TV content, which could now be recorded, replayed as well as paused/rewound/ fast-forwarded, edited, and collected.5 In transcribing television transmissions onto videotape at home, amateur video-recordings became “containers” for television that had material textuality outside of TV receivers.6 While Paik’s 3 Lucas Hilderbrand, Inherent Vice: Bootleg Histories of Videotape and Copyright, Duke University Press, 2009, p. 247. Michael Z. Newman’s work offers the useful reminder that while “the history of home video” is usually tied to “the release of the Sony Betamax in the mid-1970s,” as an emergent technological innovation, it was “regularly described and reported on in the popular press and demonstrated in public” since the mid- 1950s. Newman reports that “[h]undreds of news items described videotape in the later 1950s,” and that “[b]y 1968, there were more than 20,000 [Video Tape Recorders] in use in the United States, compared with 5,000 being used in the TV business.” Michael Z. Newman, Video Revolutions: On the History of a Medium, Columbia University Press, 2014, p. 21-22. 4 “[N]ewfound agency” is in Newman’s Video Revolutions, 2014, p. 25. 5 Will Straw explains that “[t]he cultural effects of the videocassette have been discussed primarily in terms of the repetition of unitary experiences that it permitted…” Will Straw, ‘Embedded Memories,’ in Charles R. Acland, ed, Residual Media, University of Minnesota Press, 2007, p. 6. 6 However, in writing about the remote control as a way of engaging with television, Caetlin Benson-Allott makes the important distinction that while “control can feel empowering… ‘control’ is not synonymous with ‘power”. “Power,” writes Benson-Allott, “is an ability to change the world around you; it is not defined by preexisting parameters, as is control.” Caetlin Benson-Allott, Remote Control, Bloomsbury Academic, 2017, p. xvii. 2 J. VanderBurgh, Grounding TV’s Material Heritage project recognized the proliferation of ephemeral television content, with videocassettes, a new kind of material television excess was born. Figure 2. Screenshot from a promotional video for Project Get Reel, a Canadian for-profit tape recycler, illustrating the environmental impact of videotape accumulation7: https://www.redpropeller.ca/getreel/ and https://vimeo.com/158437762 As Will Straw explains, “[l]ike any container, the videocassette” functioned to “transport and stockpile the cultural knowledges held within it.”8 “[I]n stockpiling these knowledges,” Straw points out, “the videocassette, like any medium of storage, allows them to pile up and to persist.”9 But whether or not videotape’s persistence is considered a positive thing depends on attitudes toward its physical presence and the content it contains. Michael Z. Newman explains that “[t]he medium of video exists not only as objects and practices, but also as a shifting constellation of ideas in popular imagination, including ideas about value.”10 Lisa Gitelman’s account of the “cultural logic” of paper documents and copies also establishes that “[i]ndividual genres aren’t artifacts…they are ongoing and changeable practices of expression and reception” as well as “specific and dynamic, socially realized sites.”11 As an early adopter of video technology and an early commentator on the politics of television transmission, Paik asserted that “10,000 hours tape of 1960’s TV programs will be very valuable for the future,” but Newman and Gitelman’s observations about the changing value of recordings call Paik’s claim into question.12 7 In September 2019 the company has put their recycling service on hold because they are looking for a new location. 8 Straw, ‘Embedded Memories,’ 2007, p. 7. 9 Ibid., p. 7. Here Straw is thinking about how the videotape has facilitated the persistence of cinema, but as Andrew Burke has established, Straw’s ideas about the videocassette also apply to the persistence of television. See Andrew Burke ‘Memory, Magnetic Tape, and Death By Popcorn: The Tragedy of the Winnipeg Jets,’ in Zoë Druick and Gerda Cammaer, eds, Cinephemera: Archives, Ephemeral Cinema, and New Screen Histories in Canada, McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2014, p. 326-350. 10 Newman, 2014, p. 3. See also Michael Z. Newman and Elana Levine, Legitimizing Television: Media Convergence and Cultural Status, Routledge, 2012. 11 Lisa Gitelman, Paper Knowledge: Torward a Media History of Documents, Duke University Press, 2014, p. 109, 2. Annamaria Mortrescru-Mayes and Susan Aasman point to Gitelman’s observation that “the genre of the document has widened over time as new types of format and carrier, such as pdf (digital), videotape (video), online videos or live streams invite us to reconsider these as ‘living’ sites that can be both fluid (different versions) and fixed.” Amateur Media and Participatory Cultures: Film, Video, and Digital Media, Routledge, 2019, p. 134. 12 Nam June Paik, ‘Expanded education for the paperless society,’ Radical Software, 1, 1, 1970, 8. 3 J. VanderBurgh, Grounding TV’s Material Heritage Aside from practical concerns such as whether storage space and playback equipment exists to access such collections, the answer to whether television recordings from the past have value depends, to an extent, on whether one values the dispositif, or the contextual apparatus of the video-recording.13 Historically, TV recordings made by broadcasters and production companies have been viewed as more authoritative textual records than amateur video-recordings, since they tend to be of higher aesthetic quality and have a documented provenance. However, someone who values recordings of television broadcasts might prize amateur recordings more highly, since they are more likely to reproduce TV shows along with context-specific broadcast ephemera such as commercials and station identifications that professional recordings tend to lack. Amateur video-recording’s object-value also tends to increase in contexts of perceived scarcity, either when there are gaps in broadcast or legacy archives (as in Kaleidoscope’s example that follows), or in situations when the recorded content